I have heard a good many 'Urban Myths' in my time in this glorious man's army, and I would like to share some with you - and hopefully you may be able to provide me with some new ones. Some of the following may have some small basis in the truth; but the majority are just complete fecking Dog Toffee. So, pull up a sandbag, lay down your rifle and give that lamp a swing....

I have heard this one once or twice; it's quite rare, quite entertaining, may actually have happened a long time ago; but if you hear it these days it's likely to be absolute tash...

ROS/BOS doing his rounds in the early hours (0200 - 0400) of Sat morning and decides to visit the brave boys on guard. Goes into the Guardroom - the restroom is empty, so are the bunks - only the NCO IC is sat at his desk. "Where's all the lads and the Guard Commander?", inquires the Sgt. "In the cells - some dirty pissed-up slag wandered up to the gate from town, gagging for a shag, and the lads are all taking it in turns to horse one into her!", replies the NCO IC. "Fecking Hell", thinks the Sgt; "I'll have some of that!". Into the cells he goes, it's pitch black, and sure enough, he hears the tell-tale noise of many blokes pulling a train on a dirty slag. He pushes his way to the front of the queue - he is a Sgt after all - and sinks himself conkers deep in lady honey. About halfway through his best effort, the Orderly Officer barges in, turns on the light - the Sgt looks down at the dirty scutter, who looks up and says "Oh, shit. Hello Dad.". There are varations on this where it's his wife etc...

"....Really? You don't say? Isn't it getting late?!"

This next one; I don't doubt for a moment that it has basis in the truth, however, the amount of people who have told me this one (if you include the rest of their Coy/Sqn) means that there were approximately 1000 people on this flight.. And it always goes something like this...

"We was flying back from a tour of the Falklands/Bosnia/Kosovo and there were a few birds on board - squaddies, like - and we was just about to land, when the pilot comes on the radio and goes 'Ladies and gentlemen, we will shortly be landing in Brize Norton/Hannover - welcome back to the real world... so all the ladies on board, please make the most of your last ten minutes of being popular and attractive.'"

"..No, honestly mate - I'm up early tomorrow..."

Here's a fave of mine I have heard a few times, usually from the self-styled 'barrack-room lawyer' - you don't hear this so often now, because guys are really aware of their rights (plus this is in the old pre-legal bumming days)...

"There's a bit in Queens Reg's right, that states that if two blokes are sitting on the same bed, they've both got to have their feet on the floor or you can done for being a poof..."

Absolute fecking genius... Obviously this is the worst kind of monkey-spunk; it has it's origins in 'The Hayes Code', which was a directive in 1950's Hollywood for things that were acceptable/not acceptable to be shown on screen.

Another absolute gem...

"When we were on exercise on Soltau, we used to wait for the new lad to go for a shite, and one of us would creep up behind and put a shovel under him so he shat on it, then we'd take it away, right, and when he looked down it'd be gone and he'd be giving it 'What the feck?!'..."

This is dependant on; A) The new guy being totally stone-fecking-deaf - your hearing in a forest at night tends to be extremely acute - let's face it; you aren't sneaking up on ANYONE in the middle of a pitch-black forest... B) A soldier - a fecking SQUADDIE - not looking down ONCE at his own shite while he's having a poo! Preposterous!

"That's really funny. Look, I just need to nip out and use the 'phone..."

I have heard this one in nearly every Camp in BFG, or variations of it (esp Hobart Bks, Detmold and PRB/Mansergh, Gutersloh)...

"There is a German tunnel system running for miles under the Camp/The Tank Park is built on top of the old German Tank Park - they sealed in a full Sqn of German Tanks and their crews..."

"Really? Wow. Please feck off and leave me alone."

This next one is usually uttered by some absolute thick-as-mince-but-keen-as-mustard Sgt/WO2/WO1, who also just happens to be a complete and HUGE bell-end...

BELL END: "Where should your sideboards be Smith?"
SMITH: "Dunno Sgt/Sir"
BELL END: "Queens Reg's states that your sideboards should be level with the centre of your ear"

At this point the above-mentioned bell end will pull out a pen (usually permy) and draw a line on the side of your head....

Absolute turd. QR's says nothing of the sort - the only mention of hair goes something like; "Males - the hair of the head should be kept short, neatly trimmed and off the collar. Moustaches, beards and whiskers (where permitted) are to be neatly trimmed....".. NOTHING about the centre of the ears whatsoever. However, these foul breeds of testicle-shitting rectal warts usually get it written into unit SO's, so don't go throwing QR's quotes at them.

Now this one I have heard in EVERY unit I have been to where they have a sleeping Duty Clerk, and it usually gets mentioned around your first/second duty..

"Hey, Chief - have you told him about the ghost yet?" (Usually a dead German Soldier..)

"Oh, for Christ's sake..."

Every Armoured Corps/Arty Regt I have been to has a variation on this one....

"The OC/BC had this little dog, right, and all the lads fecking hated it because it shat everywhere and bit people, so one firing camp they grabbed it, stuffed it in the breech and fired it down range..."

"Sweet Jesus..... where's my fecking rifle?"...

So, a lengthy post, I know (just like my old chap), but anyone heard any of these? Anyone got any new ones...?

As any fool knows.............
If you punch the bloke who is waking you up, you are'nt liable.

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If it is me you punch, then you bllody well are liable - to get a fuc king good kicking; as a NIG on exercise found out when I awoke him from his dreamy sleep and he clocked me one. The TARA Sgt was very impressed...

There's this niggy platoon commander just out of Sandhurst right, and the lads play a trick right, they melt, huh huh - no wait, this is funny right - they melted a mars bar on the sh it pan when he was inspecting the bogs, right. And he thinks its a turd and goes 'wot the fack is this platoon sgt'? But the platoon sargeant is IN ON IT, right, and he grabs the melted mars bar and EATS IT !

Then he says 'I THINK IT's SH IT SIR'!!! HAHAHAH!

Then they let him in on the joke.

No wait, there's more - 'cos when the coy OC is doing the block rounds with the plat comm, there's another great brown lump in the sh it pan right... so the platoon commander goes 'Ahah the boys are at it again', grabs a handful, turns to the OC and says 'look Major, ITS SH IT!!' AND GOBS THE LOT!!! BUT ITS NOT A MARS BAR THIS TIME !!! HAHAHAHAHAHH

Or how about the one where the orderly clerk decided to go awol. While in RHQ he goes into the COs office (because they are never locked are they?) and curls out a mr.whippy on the desk before inserting his ID card at a jaunty angle into the steaming mound and walking out the gate, never to be seen again.

Another one:

US Ranger on an exchange exercise with the Paras post US invasion of Panama. Exercise goes well and at the end of ex pissup the Yank gets up... "well you brits are pretty tough, but you aint as tough as a ranger". With that comment he drops his pants, gets hold of his left testicle in one hand and places it on the table. With the other he produces a hammer and smacks his ball as hard as he can. "There you go. I bet none of you Brits are hard enough to do that!"

Young troopie, desperate to prove himself to his platoon duly takes up the challenge. Drops pants, gets bollox on table and strikes with hammer. Result: he pukes up and passes out. Turns out the yank had lost a testicle to shrapnel while jumping into Panama and had a plastic cosmetic replacement.

Another one: "i was base commander in Middletown/Keady/a tower in the late 90's. Those who have been there since the rebuild will know it as a motar cube with massive blast doors and a small ops room. One day I woke early and decided to take over my watch about 30 mins early, thus allowing Bdr S to do some personal admin before breakfast. Noone else was up and about (we had been out on patrols) and breakfast wasnt for another 90 mins.

I opened the door of the ops room to discover Bdr S on his knees with his trousers round his ankles. his cock was looking rather angry and licking it with enthusiasm was the camp mascot: a small terrier called 'tripod' (as it had lost a leg in an argument with a car). The dirty cnut had smeared marmite all over his knob. Stories here then differ with the person going away and coming back in 5 minutes and pretending nothing had happened to ending with the offending pervert being kicked out the army."

a female Capt. who is on exercise and has been stuck down by her monthly bleed! According to her, it states in regs that all females are entitled to a shower back in camp if this happens whilst on exercise

a female Capt. who is on exercise and has been stuck down by her monthly bleed! According to her, it states in regs that all females are entitled to a shower back in camp if this happens whilst on exercise

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Had some little witch state this little "fact" and was actually allowed to be driven back to camp for a shower. please someone tell me this is bollocks!!!